Nightmares of the Past Come Back to Haunt Me
by ChrisColfer0527
Summary: "It's amazing how fast your life can change in just a week." Kurt said, truly shocked at the new lows his life has reached in the past month. "And now, I can't seem to find a reason to stay around to see how much worse it gets." Warnings: kidnapping, torture, rape, vulgar language, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, murder, ect.


Wow, I haven't written in quite awhile. So many plot ideas, so little time. I've been trying to write for months now, so go with it haha.

 _ **Enjoy!xx**_

* * *

"Mr. Hummel, it says in the report that you stabbed both men-"

"Monsters." He interrupted in calmly.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't consider them human, so I don't believe 'men' would be the right word to describe them."

The courtroom was silent, everyone stunned with the calm yet chilly words Kurt spoke.

"What you view them as is your opinion, Mr. Hummel, but please keep it to yourself." The lawyer droned on, losing Kurt's attention as he talked about the monsters in such a way that made them seem as if they were children tragically taken from the world too soon. As if their deaths were a loss to the world instead of a relief that there's one less monster under the bed, or hiding in the closet.

The gray-haired man reset his stony, cold gaze as he talked down to him with repetitive information and patronizing questions. "You stabbed both men multiple times in the abdomen after you shot them both. Mr. Lannin was stabbed five times and Mr. Abernathy fourteen times. Then proceeded to-" he cleared his throat, obviously disturbed "-cut off their genitals and...stick them down their throats."

Disgusted and shocked looks danced across the jury's faces. Similar thoughts crossed their minds with this newly found information: _'How could someone_ _ **do**_ _such a thing?' 'He's clearly messed up, he_ _ **needs**_ _therapy, or prison.' 'But he's only_ _ **17**_ _...'_ All reasonable thoughts, and all admittedly true.

"And after you finished- murdering them and mutilating their bodies, you looted their belongings and left them in the hotel room for hotel security to stumble upon the next day after neighbors reported an unbelievable odor coming from the room." The lawyer took a moment to clear his throat before continuing with everything Kurt already knew. Kurt looked into the crowd and saw his father. A mixture of devastation, horror, and a hint of pride all painted permanently on his worn-out face. Blaine's was no better. He had barely told his family anything when he came home, too far gone to spare the details of his torture. But they would all find out now what happened in that God-forsaken hotel room, the room where the real Kurt still was, bundled up bloody in a corner praying for his father to come rescue him.

"You walked all the way from Westerville to Lima without contacting the police and proceeded to wait at your house until your family came back." He sounded restless and irritated with him, but frankly, Kurt couldn't care less. He just wanted to go home and drown himself in his mother's old duvet and pray that the quilt would suffocate him to a blissfully eternal sleep.

"Tell me something I don't know..." Kurt said spitefully to the lawyer with that God-awful suit. The judge peered down at him with a condescending look, berating him for his attitude.

"Well, what you don't know, Mr. Hummel, is that those men had families. Wives. Children. And you brutalized their fathers and husbands. You stole something from those families that they can never get back." Mr. Whatever-The-Fuck-His-Name-Is looked genuinely hurt, like he completely ignored the entire reason _why_ Kurt killed them. Ignored the how's and why's of Kurt's side of the story to make those monsters look innocent, even human.

"What _you_ don't know, Mr. Two-Dollar-Suit, is my side of the story." He didn't care how belligerent he was acting, justifying what happened to him be making those monsters out to be the victims wasn't okay. He couldn't believe how ignorant this man was to completely throw away his side of everything.

"Then please share to the court why their deaths shouldn't send you to prison." He rushed towards the people behind the plaintiff's table and pointed to two women and their sobbing children. "Explain to their families why it's okay that they won't get to see their father on Christmas."

Kurt sat in shock, eyeing the babbling children and their mothers with broken hearts tattooed in their eyes. This was the first time seeing those monster's families. He knew the whole time that they both had people to go home to, and he told himself it wasn't his fault. But seeing them in person made everything ten times harder.

He couldn't tell his story. He couldn't. To tell these innocent children what their fathers had done to him, what these women's husbands had done to him. It would break them. He was already broken, he couldn't take the light out of their eyes anymore than he already has.

But not telling his story would just make everything that happened to him okay. It would be just as bad as him telling every victim with similar stories as his that what happened to them doesn't matter and to get over it.

He felt so conflicted and knew that this asshole lawyer knew it. He knew that Kurt wouldn't be able to tell two innocent families, as well as his entire family, all the horrendous things that were done to him, and that's why this lawyer was getting away with making _him_ look like the monster. The jury would vote him guilty and he'd be sent away from the comfort of his mother's duvet, from his father's over-cooked, over-buttered toast, and from Blaine's arms. From everything that secretly kept him sane.

"They took me." He whispered pathetically. The lawyer's face looked panicked for a slight second, but his panic drowned Kurt's away and powered him to push through the pain and bring light to the wounds he's kept hidden from prying eyes. "I never met them before. They seemed nice at first. The type of people I'd want to be around."

The women looked up at the sound of his soft voice, curiosity over-clouding the hurt in their eyes. "But they took me. Blindfolded me and clunked me over the head with something heavy. I believe it was a brick, but they already had me pinned, tied, and blindfolded by the time they were concerned with knocking me out."

He knew he was being a little too informative and he was probably just adding salt to everyone's wounds, but he believed these women needed to know what happened more than his own family did.

"I woke up in the back of a trunk, but I was only awake at the end of the car ride. I was taken out of the trunk shortly after and dragged into what I later found out to be some stingy, overused hotel room." This was the hard part. He swallowed repeatedly around the lump in his throat, trying desperately to keep his tears at bay. The lawyer found his moment of weakness as an opportunity to twist his words.

"So they kidnapped you and you just brutally murdered them? These are obvious words of a psychopath, we need to throw people like this in-"

"Please, stop!" Mrs. Lannin shouted.

The judge look startled, but quickly piped in. "Mrs. Lannin, you cannot interrupt the-"

"I know I know, I'm sorry, Your Honor, but please..." She looked desperately at Kurt, tears clinging to her long lashes. "I-I need to know. Please, l-let the boy finish." She was looking at the lawyer now, eyes begging for his silence and for Kurt's knowledge.

Kurt was shocked into silence, but saw her desperate plea as a push to continue. "When they took off my blindfold, t-they..." He cleared his throat, trying to stop his tears from flooding his cheeks. "They began to tie my hands to the headboard and-and remove my clothes..."

A devastated cry came from the stands. Kurt looked over expecting to see one of the women sobbing, but his eyes were drawn to his father's shaking shoulders as sobs escaped his mouth loudly. Carole, who was trying not to cry just as loud, was trying to comfort the man, but getting Burt to stop was futile. He suddenly remembered that everyone he cared about was here to hear the horrors of his time away from home. It was suddenly a lot harder to speak then it was just moments ago. And suddenly, he couldn't contain the tears he was trying so desperately to hide.

"Mr. Hummel, if you can't compose yourself, we'll have to ask you to leave the courtroom immediately." The judge spoke loudly, his booming voice startling Kurt and reminding him how pathetic it must look to see his snot covered face. It took Kurt a second to realize he wasn't talking to him, but to his father. Burt looked up and immediately locked eyes with his son. He smiled, brokenly, before nodding his head and wiping his eyes clean.

"As you were, Mr. Hummel." The judge encouraged, gesturing towards him to finish.

Kurt stared at his fumbling hands, coughing loudly before stuttering on. "T-they removed...well, ripped my clothes off and began to-"

"Began to what, Mr. Hummel? Do your laundry?" The lawyer's snide look infuriated him, making a joke over what happened to him sparked a rage that shook him to his core.

"Mr. Knox, that's completely inappropriate. If you can't stand to stay professional, I'll have you kicked out in a blink of an eye. I will not have any disrespect in my courtroom." The judge casted a furious gaze to the lawyer, and Kurt felt a spark of happiness for the first time in a long time.

"I apologize, Your Honor." He stepped back for a moment, an intimidated look crossing his face. The judge's fury disappeared the moment he looked at Kurt, simply looking restless if anything.

"We need for you to be as detailed as possible, Mr. Hummel, so we can put it in our records." He pointed towards a woman who was typing furiously to keep up with what everyone was saying. She finished typing the moment Kurt looked over and looked up at him. She seemed uncomfortable and settled for staring at her laptop instead.

"They raped me." Kurt said abruptly. He decided to just rip the bandaid off and see if the wound would be healed or would just start bleeding again. "They raped me countless times. And never let me clean myself afterwards. I was tied to that bed for the entire week I was kept as a prison and was forced to lay in my own filth. In my own blood. In their-"

"In their what, Mr. Hummel?" The judge asked, knowing the answer but needing the answer to be said in order to be put in the records.

"In their semen, Your Honor." A tear escaped without Kurt's permission. "I prayed everyday and every night for a week that they would just shoot me. That the knife that they'd play with would cut too deep on accident and the bleeding would stop only when I stopped breathing."

A whole new mood set across the courtroom. Everyone seemed undecided on what to feel. Tell two families that their father's deaths were justified, or tell a boy who was brutally raped and killed his captors to free himself that he's guilty?

"Nineteen stab wounds, Mr. Hummel, and mutilated genitals. As well as innocent, traumatized hotel security workers that saw the bodies. Can you explain that? Can you _defend_ that?"

Kurt took a deep breath, before letting his mind be cleared of all the doubt that saying this would bring. "I murdered them to escape. If I didn't kill them, they would have killed me. They said countless times how they were going to kill me, that they were just looking for the best way to do it."

"But isn't that what you wanted, Mr. Hummel? Was that not the one thing you prayed for every night, as you said yourself?"

"I wanted to die, yes. So badly. But that was when I had no hope. I had hope when I saw a chance to escape. Their deaths were necessary for me to escape and give me another chance to see my father. To see my friends and family and that was worth everything. Even if I do go to prison for this, it was worth it to see the ones I love more than anything one more time."

"But guess who doesn't get that luxury? The families of the men you murdered. And if their deaths were necessary for your escape, I'm guessing you believe the nineteen stab wounds and dismembered limbs were necessary as well, right?"

"You don't understand..." Kurt sounded so defeated and tired, his devastated voice sounded like death to Burt.

"What don't I understand, Mr. Hummel? Please enlighten me."

"They raped me." Kurt felt like a broken record but he needed to make his point clear. "Nineteen times."

Blaine felt like his world fell off its axis. There's no way he could ever see the world the same way. For someone to take someone as pure and innocent as Kurt away and destroy all that Kurt is, was, and ever will be within a week took all the light Blaine ever saw in the world and crushed it.

"Within seven days, I was raped nineteen times. Mr. Lannin molested me five times and Mr. Abernathy fourteen times. So that's how many times I stabbed them. They might as well have killed me nineteen times because that's what it felt like. It felt like I was being ripped apart and filled to the brim with such hopelessness and darkness, that dying seemed like a luxury. A luxury I couldn't afford." Kurt hiccuped roughly before pressing on. "They sliced my skin with a knife more times than I could count, just for fun. They drew patterns on my skin with my own blood after raping me every time. They brutalized my body with their knives and their genitals so I was just returning the favor. My only regret is that I killed them before I returned the favor."

No one knew what to say, everyone speechless over the small seventeen year old's confession. Kurt was trembling as he tried to think of a way to escape this holy hell of a nightmare.

"And I took the same gun that I shot them dead with and put it in my mouth. Because yeah, killing them, killing _anyone,_ is fucked up, and I couldn't go home to the same house and live there, because I wasn't the same person. After shooting them, I might as well have shot the old Kurt with them, because I'll never be the same again. Just some fucked up mental patient that'll need to pop three bottles of pills just to leave the house. And that sounded more painful then never seeing my family again. So I put the gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger." Kurt was sobbing so silently you'd have to be watching him to know he was even crying. "Lucky me that the gun was empty." His sarcasm stabbed a hole right through Blaine's heart.

"I was almost glad that it was empty when I came home to my family, but with this asshole right here," Kurt pointed an accusing finger towards the lawyer, anger coursing through his veins with a nagging voice telling him to stop being overwhelmed by said rage. "He makes me _dread_ the fact that there wasn't one bullet left..."


End file.
